


the best of you (belongs to me)

by scorpiod



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: Blood Bond, Blood Drinking, Blowjobs, Ghouls, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 12:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiod/pseuds/scorpiod
Summary: Knox gets monthly fixes. Bertram enjoys it more than he should.





	the best of you (belongs to me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [malachiical](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malachiical/gifts).

> Title taken from Hozier's _NFWMB_. I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy this too!

“Isn't the _Sunco_ gasoline company a funny place for a vampire to live?” Knox asks as he walks into Bertram’s sleeping quarters, already rambling, a bounce in his step. 

Bertram grunts. “I didn't pick the name,” he says. “And I don't live here.” He _hid_ out here. He had several living quarters and havens scattered throughout the city and Knox has only seen this one so far. Good for sleeping, a place to lie low. Among other stuff. 

“Oh man,” Knox says, gearing up, “I know it's abandoned and all but--”

“Knox. C’mon. Get on topic,” he interrupts. “You know what you're here for.”

Knox's mouth spreads in a wide, tooth baring grin. His gold eyes--a side effect of the nosferatu blood bond, and so far the only physical transformation--seem to sparkle as he launches into an explanation of everything going on in the city that he could make himself privy too--job openings at the _Asylum_, the growing population of thin bloods, new Kindred in town.

Knox couldn't know everything--ghouls have their limits--but he has a good work ethic; Bertram appreciates the effort. 

When Knox finishes reporting, he leans back against the dirty walls of his abandoned dwelling and waits, eyes meeting his own, a sharp intensity in his gaze that belied his cheerful demeanor. He can only hold still for so long--Knox was a font of boundless energy, and that's only increased since Bertram made him his ghoul. 

“I can get more,” Knox says, when he's silent for too long. Bertram holds up his hand to shush him and surprisingly, he does. 

“You did good,” Bertram says and something in Knox’s face just lights up with the praise. His eyes grow impossibly brighter, like he's sick with fever. 

At this point, Knox doesn't ask for it. He waits for Bertram to bestow the vitae upon him, even as he rocks on his heels. He's a good little ghoul that way. 

“C’mere,” Bertram says, beckoning closer with one hand, and then slits a horizontal line in his wrist with the other. Knox’s mouth parts the slightest bit open, nose twitching as he watches the blood flow, well out. “You earned it.”

Knox does not need to be told twice. He rushes over to him in two large strides and grabs his wrist, both hands on him, his fingers lingering on his rough, coarse skin. He lets Knox set the pace here, bring his wrist to his mouth before the wound heals itself, his lips hot and wet against his skin as he closes them around the open wound and sucks and moans with delight. 

Bertram smiles as he watches Knox--eyes closed in delirium, mouth sucking hard, all of his attention focused on his blood. Knox always grows warm and hot from this, his cock hardening in his jeans, shameless groans erupting from his throat--the first time, he was embarrassed at his own reaction but not anymore. Knox sways on his feet but the grip on Bertram always turns hard, his blunt human nails digging into his skin, like he can't bare to let go. 

Bertram enjoys watching this more than he should. He can't resist stroking the back of Knox’s neck, keeping his touch light, trying not to cut his skin, and Knox shudders beneath him. 

_(“Nox means night, you know,” he told him, back when they first met._

_By which Bertram had meant, ‘aren't you just perfect.’_

_“It's spelled with a K, master,” Knox had said and Bertram just sighed)_

Bertram tries not to feel too sentimental about it. Even if he found Knox exceptional. 

He presses his claws into skin--a warning, a signal. “That's enough, Knox.”

He could just tear away his wrist, but Knox snaps to attention at his words, ready and willing to obey. His eyes are bright, his mouth shiny red and wet. Bertram can hear his heart race, the pulse in his throat jumping invitingly. 

Most ghouls get lost in the euphoria, hazy with the high of it all, but Knox’s senses sharpened rather than dulled, his eyes like razors as they meet Bertram’s. He smiles at him; it's a perfectly ghoulish grin that Bertram mirrors back, even if his own smile frightens most people. 

“Thanks, master,” Knox says, and then falls to his knees, shockingly graceful, putting Knox eye level with Bertram’s crotch. 

“Knox,” he rasps. He isn't surprised, this isn't the first time. Humans tend to get carried away and Knox is always a little too much on his default setting. He grabs Knox by his chin. His claws press into his soft skin. Knox shudders with it, leans into the touch, not caring if he bled for this. He runs his palm on Bertram’s dick, as if he could will him to get an erection with just his touch. 

(it doesn't entirely work that way) 

“You don't have to do that,” he says. “That's not what you here for.”

_You’re my eyes and ears, Knox. My view of the sun. You go where I cannot._

“Oh, I know, dude--master,” Knox says, correcting himself. “I just want to suck you.”

Knox doesn't get to hold anything back with Bertram. That's part of the appeal. 

Bertram rewards him by allowing him what he wants, willing some blood down to his cock until it swelled to erect under Knox’s hand. 

There was a heady kind of raw hunger in Knox’s eyes, in his blown out pupils, in his hungry mouth--skin flushed with blood, feverish and nearly crazed with it. His teeth are stained with his blood, smeared across his lips like a particularly pretty lipstick. 

High off his blood, Knox was at his finest. 

“Alright,” he says. 

Bertram lets him work--watches him with lazy interest as Knox undoes his belt, pulls down his pants. He's just as ugly under his clothes, his cock no different than the rest of him--unnatural grey, rough skin, unseemly bumps running all along it. His cock was the same color and not terribly warm but Knox doesn't mind--if he ever did, he's long gotten over it. 

There's no preamble, no foreplay. Knox just goes for it, wrapping his hand around his now heavy cock, and sucks him down immediately. 

Bertram cants his hips towards him, languid and relaxed, rather than thrusting hard. He's happy to give him this. Maybe more than he should be. After all, kindred aren't supposed to really chase after kine for orgasms, just blood. 

But he's fond of Knox. 

Knox sucks cock with the same enthusiasm as he drinks blood--shamelessly into it, not that he has any shame left, like he may die if didn't, like it felt just as good to swallow Bertram’s cock down his throat as it did to drink his blood. Maybe it did. 

Bertram lets out a soft sigh, luxuriating in the warmth of his mouth, the way Knox’s hands clung to his thighs. 

The sight of Knox on his knees like this is always a heady one. 

Bertram cups his chin with a clawed hand, as gently as he could. His other hand, he tangles in his hair, petting and stroking him like a particular good dog. Knox glances up at him, cock distending his cheeks and golden eyes wide with rapture. 

“Good boy,” he tells him. A little praise made his ghoul so _weak_ in the knees, eyes rolling back. 

Knox moans around Bertram’s cock in sheer, eager ecstasy, Bertram’s pleasure mingling with his own until they were entangled together.


End file.
